


Insomnia

by 1nsomnizac



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Gen, Sadstuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 19:21:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11743521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1nsomnizac/pseuds/1nsomnizac
Summary: The dreams do not end. It has been years, and time has passed, and life has settled into a new normal. You are a savior of the waking world.And you dread falling asleep.





	Insomnia

**Author's Note:**

> The poetry which frames this piece is from 'The Lotos Eaters' by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

 

> Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,   
>  And in a little while our lips are dumb.   
>  Let us alone. What is it that will last?   
>  All things are taken from us, and become   
>  Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.   
>  Let us alone. What pleasure can we have   
>  To war with evil? Is there any peace   
>  In ever climbing up the climbing wave?   
>  All things have rest, and ripen toward the grave   
>  In silence; ripen, fall and cease:   
>  Give us long rest or death, dark death, or dreamful ease. 

* * *

The dreams do not end. It has been years, and time has passed, and life has settled into a new normal. You are a savior of the waking world.

And you dread falling asleep.

You see them, sometimes. People you could not save, people you could not know. Yet they are tied to you, reminding you that you are tied to something that you can never touch, never meet, never feel. And sometimes you wake weeping over the life you have lost, the lives you never got to have, the lives who will never get to live. And sometimes you wake up feeling like laughing, at the sweetness of the bubbles, and the relief that came with victory. But always you are struck with a vague disquiet.

Your Dad is dead.

A man who looks like him is still alive, a man that looks the same, is genetically the same, and acts with the same sort of vibe as your dad. But he didn’t raise you. Some other you raised him.

Some days, when you are alone in the house, you go through all the rooms where you made memories, but the house is empty. The empty house feels wrong, your heart aches, always aches, and you’ve tried to run away, tried to settle somewhere new, but you never end up staying, they just aren’t Home. You want to scream.

Your Dad is buried on the battlefield, with Rose’s Mom. Is he, though? You are from a dead timeline. Isn’t that corpse some other John’s father?

Why are all the others happy? Do they not dream?

Will you ever be okay?

You’ve grown since you left the Old Life. Your bed feels smaller now. There’s an empty corner where the totem lathe once sat.

Are you real? Is any of this real?

It’s hard to sleep. Sometimes, you try to sleep in your dad’s room. You remember how you felt about the first time you saw it. The shock of knowing that you misunderstood him so utterly.

You never understood the man who raised you. You never will. You never can.

You never stay in Dad’s room the whole night. You can never get to sleep. You don’t want to go to sleep. You need to sleep.

Why do you have to dream?

Your name is John Egbert. You dread falling asleep.

But you also dread waking up.

* * *

> How sweet it were...  
>  To lend our hearts and spirits wholly  
>  To the influence of mild-minded melancholy;  
>  To muse and brood and live again in memory,  
>  With those old faces of our infancy  
>  Heap'd over with a mound of grass  
>  Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass!

**Author's Note:**

> How does one move on, and love and live again, when the world has changed beyond one's ken? When fate alienates you from the past and the future? When the ones who love you cannot understand why you are in pain, how do you connect?
> 
> I've had a rough night. Make sure you're regular with your antidepressants, kids!


End file.
